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by amethyst-noir (Arbonne)



Series: Prompt Collection [16]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Childhood Sexual Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Hurt Stephen Strange, I'm Sorry, M/M, Underage Rape/Non-con, talked about not described
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 14:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16327934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arbonne/pseuds/amethyst-noir
Summary: Secrets come out and nothing will ever be the same again.





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**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes my inbox just gives me pain, so after I answered the question _Have you seen Patrick Melrose?_ with a "yes" I got this:  
>  _NICE, would you ever be up for writing a fic where Stephen had the same kind of childhood as Patrick and telling Tony about it?_
> 
> It's short and more explicit than my usual stuff so proceed with care. _Please_ mind the tags. People like Patrick Melrose's father - and thanks to the prompt also Stephen's - are the worst the human race has to offer and deserve nothing but eternal damnation. I'm sorry for everything.

The words left a silence that not even Tony Stark knew how to fill. Instead he just stared, unable to move in fear any action of his might cause Stephen to flee like he so clearly wanted to.

“My father was a monster,” Tony had said, just a few short minutes ago.

“So was mine,” Stephen had replied and _something_ in his voice and his suddenly guarded body language had told Tony that this was serious, not some throwaway line to tell Tony that other people had it bad too and he should quit moaning about Howard. The deep breath Stephen had taken a second later, followed by a quiet “there’s something I have to tell you” had been the final clue that Tony absolutely didn’t want to hear what would come next.

“Stephen,” he began but fell silent immediately. What was there to say? _My father not only hit me but he also abused me sexually when I was a child_ was more than enough. _Sorry_ was worthless, as was any other useless word in every language. There were no words and one look at Stephen showed him that he thought the same. So many things suddenly made sense.

The way Stephen always wanted to see Tony’s face when they made love, no matter who was on top. His shyness the first few times, how it had taken him months to work up the courage to ask Tony to fuck him. How he almost begged Tony to be careful with him. Tony had been, of course. He’d taken all the time in the world in preparing him and he _knew_ that Stephen had enjoyed it as much as he himself had. Had done so all the times since then. He’d taken the apprehension as a sign of a former relationship gone bad, maybe even an assault. But not… this.

“Stephen,” he tried again, instinctively reaching out with his hands. He was relieved when Stephen took the invitation and came to him; almost falling into his embrace. “How old where you?” he finally asked. He hated himself for the question but he _had to know_. “Please, tell me…” _that you weren’t_ _…_

“It started when I was nine and went one until I was twelve or so. It wasn’t often, just…” 

A damn _child_ , too young to even know what was happening. Tony gave up an trying to hold back his tears. “Stop,” he begged. “There are no excuses, don’t try to make it sound better.” Stephen wasn’t even crying, had probably shed all the tears he could years ago. But he was shaking in Tony’s arms and holding on to him as if he was his lifeline. His face was hidden but Tony knew that his eyes were squeezed shut as it to shut out reality. If only it were that easy.

There were fathers out there even worse than his own. While he’d know that from a theoretical point of view he wasn’t prepared to get to know the ghost of one of them. 

And there was nothing he could do, Tony realized. It was all in the ancient past, hidden away behind a barrier even he couldn’t overcome. Stephen had probably already done all he healing he’d ever do in that regard, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to let Tony into his life, his bed, his _body_. He’d just showed Tony the full depth of his trust at that was it, all that Tony could do now was to keep the secret and try his hardest to be worthy of the immense faith Stephen had just put into him.

There still were no words. Instead Tony rearranged them into a more comfortable position, while holding on to Stephen. He would sit here until Stephen managed to get himself together again. Maybe they’d talk. Maybe - probably - not. Tony would somehow learn to deal with all the new crap just dumped onto him. Them. He’d try not to treat Stephen like something fragile and precious, something that had been hard before and would be even harder now, in the cold light of new information.

He looked down at Stephen, still shaking in his arms. He didn’t even want revenge, he realized to his surprise. It was too late to hate a man thirty years dead anyway. He just wanted to protect Stephen, keep him safe, while the rest of the world could go to hell for all he cared. 

Tony slowly stroked Stephen’s back, a gesture guaranteed to calm him, as proven over and over again after nightmares, and waited for him to come back.

There was nothing else he could do.

**Author's Note:**

> [Original post.](https://amethyst-noir.tumblr.com/post/178912916741/nice-would-you-ever-be-up-for-writing-a-fic-where/)  
>  (The next one's going to be a happy one, promise.)


End file.
